


Lonicera

by alokos



Series: Flowers’ Meanings verse [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gwen misunderstands, M/M, Morgana knows, fluff all around + sappy thoughts at the end, i really hope i didn’t screw this up, not really slash but sort of pre-slash i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alokos/pseuds/alokos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is gone for the day with Gaius and a little thing appears on Arthur’s desk.<br/>He is not particularly pleased with it – scratch that, he hates the thing and the thought of it annoys him to no end.</p><p>(or the one where crown princes are a little too prickly and think too much for their own good)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonicera

**Author's Note:**

> i haven’t seen something of the sorts around here yet, so i decided it could be a good idea seen how i’ve grown an obsession with my little dictionary of flowers and their meanings…  
> i really hope this came out half as good as i think it did  
> feedback is always appreciated!

 

 

_Lonicera_

_everything i do, i do for you_  
_long live the King_

 

 

  
Some months into summer, the first year Merlin’s his servant, Arthur finds a bundle of honeysuckle on his desk, in a jar of glass with clear water.

  
He stares at it with a confused frown and a bit of indignation – the grounds around Camelot are covered in blossomed flowers and thriving herbs, why would someone think that _honeysuckle_ would please the crown prince?

  
He glares at the offending jar a little more and then shrugs it off, going on with his daily routine as best he can when everybody seems to notice the little thing – he even considers throwing it out of the window or hiding it behind the heavy curtains in his room or one of the tapestries in the corridors, just for the sake of his sanity.

  
Gwen smiles at him when she enters to tell him that Morgana will visit him before lunch, then stops dead in her tracks when she catches sight of _the thing_ – she looks at it with wide eyes and her neck and ears flush prettily and she keeps her gaze everywhere else but on Arthur for the rest of the time.

  
When Morgana arrives she looks at _the thing_ with her brows furrowed for long, and even after she has a puzzled expression for most of the time, until she doesn’t anymore – her eyes clear and something like understanding flashes in her eyes and then she smiles softly and says “oh Arthur”. It’s infuriating and he throws a chair against the wall when she takes her leave.

  
Merlin is nowhere to be seen all day: he told Arthur yesterday that Gaius needed help to gather more herbs now that summer had fully arrived so he’s not really concerned – not that _he_ would ever be _concerned_ over _Merlin_ , but still. He needs him for sword practice, and polishing his armour, and to clean his room.  
All of the maids that come into his room look at the little jar with curiosity bright in their eyes but he tries and dismisses them as fast he can.

**—**

Afternoon rolls around lazily and Arthur concentrates on sword practice with the knights and pays attention when his father and the councillors talk and talk and _talk_ about taxes and how the harvest looks promising this year and the eastern borders.

  
When he returns to his chambers that night the fire is lit in the hearth – the warm lights soften everything in the room, the walls resemble the sky at sunset and the furniture seems on fire; dinner is served perfectly at the table, and things seem even a little less messier than when he left.

  
Merlin has his back to Arthur, hums quietly while rummaging through a drawer, he looks at the bundle of honeysuckle on the table and sings more happily, then turns and smiles at him.

  
But the scene is so familiar something little and fragile unfolds in Arthur’s chest and it is so sudden and so so so _real_ he’s taken aback and for a moment it’s hard to breathe.

  
“Is everything ok?”  
“Yeah,” he whispers.  
“You sure ’bout that?”  
“I’m fine _Mer_ lin!” he snaps and the other smiles easily.

  
Arthur sits at the table and starts to eat, Merlin sits crosslegged on the table in front of him and munches on pieces of food stolen from the tray, talking loudly and messily around mouthfuls of bread about how Gaius is the worst companion ever for a day in the woods, even worse than Arthur himself, about how they almost got lost on the way back and about this and that.

  
And if Arthur laughs a little too much while Merlin talks, or if he studies the way the shadows move on his face for too long, or if he smiles a little too fondly when the other almost falls on the ground trying to catch grapes in his mouth – well, no one is there to see it.

  
At the end of it all, before Merlin closes the door of the room, he sees it – devotion, pure and unmistakable, mixed with everything else that is Merlin but still so evident in his eyes and so _there_ , for him just for him.


End file.
